Twenty-first century rain doesn't obey the monarchy any more than the tide did when Canute was king in 1028AD.

In large parts of northern England the result was a wholesale retreat indoors for hundreds of communal events that had hoped to enjoy the sort of warmth and sunshine that illuminated late May.

"It's a washout," said a woman regular at the former Red Lion in Otley, West Yorkshire, where all 17 of the small town's pubs have renamed themselves The Queen Elizabeth until Wednesday. Outside in the downpour, knots of children with union flags scampered around a soaked stage set up for a family party in the market square.

The lonely outdoors' scene of dank bunting and paint running from homemade garden party posters was deceptive – typically in the village of Bramhope on the Chevin hillside between Otley and Leeds.

Following the traditional ploy of "in vicarage/church hall if wet", more than 150 villagers filled every place at trestle tables presided over by the vicar of St Giles' parish church, the Rev Janice Smith, and her Methodist counterpart, the Rev Dawn Saunders.

Resplendent in union flag deely-bobbers, and surrounded by scurrying children in matching red, white and blue, Smith said: "It's been a wonderful way of everyone getting together, and we had the church full for the service beforehand." Pursuing the theme in her thanks to everyone after the lunch, she hinted gently: "Remember, we're open every Sunday."

Bramhope has an interesting niche in England's republican history, with one of only a handful of Puritan chapels built in Cromwell's reign on the other side of the Otley Road from St Giles, but there was no sign of dissenters . Margaret Coles, a retired social worker, said: "It's been a great way to get everyone together, all of us mixed up, no hierarchy at all."

The lunch ingredients were democratic, too, with detailed check-off lists among Rev Smith's planning charts, ensuring that Margaret North had brought 20 small, mixed-filling vol-au-vents as promised, and Elaine Dagg and Kathleen Jepson their four rounds of egg sandwiches cut into quarters. That great leveller, the pub quiz, also played its part, as retired skin specialist Bill Cunliffe set a range of questions beyond the powers of any individual villager.

Anthony North, emeritus professor of physics, was defeated, for instance, over what the wife of the president of Zaire had smuggled into Buckingham Palace in 1973. He said: "We didn't do badly in the end, because we had a mixed team, but I couldn't remember the answer to the only science question – at what temperature do diamonds melt?"

For the record, the answers were a snake and 3,547C (6,254F), and the prize of a box of chocolates went to a rival group. Bramhope's celebrations continue on Monday, along with hundreds of other communities who drew lucky with the weather – it is forecast to be dry and a little warmer in the north-east, the north-west and Yorkshire.

"You've learned that there are 4,000 jubilee beacons (the answer to another of Cunliffe's questions)," said the chair of the parish council, Denis Johnson. "Well that's wrong." A pile of pallets and gash wood on Bramhope's recreation ground will be assembled this morning into a bonfire which should be visible from Leeds. "So there are 4,001, and the extra one is ours."